


The No Good Breaking Point

by KyeAbove



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Bad Puns, Crack, F/M, Gen, Henry is Tired and Hungry, Humor, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-14 06:51:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14130486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyeAbove/pseuds/KyeAbove
Summary: There’s only so much Henry can take before he breaks, and when he breaks, a car made of ink is born.





	1. In Which Henry Has A Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so a little backstory here. My sister, Katty, was building a Lego vehicle set, and it came with an axe. We grinned together and we decided it must be Henry's axe. Then I joked that if the vehicle was made of black Lego pieces instead of red, it would be the car Henry would drive through the studio, because ‘Fuck you. I don't need to be running around like this.’
> 
> And...well. She made a black car out of Lego and presented it to me. And I started writing this as a thank you to her, and then she joined in instead and we’ve actually been working on this story together for quite a few months now, so there's a lot written.

The breaking point was the bacon soup he was holding. Another can. Why was there so much bacon soup? Why not _anything else?_ Something like...toast, maybe?

It didn’t help that Henry had been having a bad week. Currently, Henry was stuck in an ink hell, with Boris as his only clear friend, and only bacon soup to eat. His joints ached more than usual, and his back was _killing_ him. So far, it was more successful in its attempts to do him in than the Ink Demon.

Henry had been tolerating all that and the constant violence, fear, and _bullshit,_ for the entire week, but staring down at yet another can of bacon soup, he cracked. What tolerance he had disappeared in an instant.

“Mother _fucker!_ ” Henry let loose all his frustration in that one word, harshly tossing the can of bacon soup despite the pain it brought him, where it hit the wall, bounced with a sad cling, and landed in a large ink puddle. It rolled, dejectedly, for a moment, before coming to a stop.

To Henry’s dismay, a Searcher dragged himself out of the puddle. He grabbed the can of bacon soup, studied it, had a deep moment with it, and then dropped it, sliding towards Henry. The Searchers' inhuman growling used to scare Henry shitless, and make him grab for an axe, but not anymore. Not this time.

Henry was far too _done_ to give a shit at this point. Henry pointed at the Searcher.

 _“You_ can go fuck yourself.”

The Searcher stopped, and his animalistic stance dropped. Would words alone have stopped these creatures all this time?

“What do you even get out of this?” Henry asked, now that he had the Searcher’s attention. “What is Joey paying you to be a jerk?”

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any hidden cameras, as if that was the only explanation for Henry’s behavior, the Searcher held a hand up, making a ‘0’ shape.

“Exactly. Even if you _are_ getting paid to ruin my life further, just _stop.”_

The Searcher bowed his head in defeat.

“If you could pass that along to your buddies, that would be great.”

Instead of retreating into the ink puddle once more, the Searcher made an odd sound, and sort of shuffled forward, somehow tripped, and landed face first on the floor. The point of all this, Henry couldn’t say, but it was at least better then having to axe the Searcher.

If the Searcher tried anything, Henry could just crush him with the heel of his boot.

The Searcher lifted his head off the floor, and looked up at Henry, and Henry could only wonder what look he might be trying to give him. A glare? Puppy dog eyes? If only the Searcher had eyes to begin with.

“If I’m being honest, it’s not you or any of the others I’m mad at, it’s Joey. _Joey_ can go fuck himself.” Henry sighed, pleasantly, “And then he can go back to where he belongs. If only he’d never crawled out of whatever hole in hell somebody didn’t think to permanently close. Then I wouldn’t have ink in places I’d rather not mention.”

The Searcher snickered. This Searcher was already proving to be a more agreeable rantboard than Boris. Henry cared deeply for Boris, but Boris tended to focus more on food than Henry’s mad rants. The Searcher was at least trying to pretend to be interested.

“I deserve someone better than Joey. I deserve someone who actually thinks things through. Maybe Henry doesn’t want to spend a week in a damp studio being chased by a literal demon. Maybe Henry would have gone out with you if you hadn’t presented him a human heart. Maybe Henry thinks he made a huge mistake even meeting you. Did Joey ever think of that? Of course not! All he thought about is himself. What about my needs? What about my aching joints?” Henry stuck his tongue out, at nothing in particular. “I’m not even that old, but _everything still hurts_.” 

And then the epiphany.

“Fuck this all! I’m not putting up with this. If Joey could make cartoons out of ink and tortured souls, I can get _something_ out of ink that will make my life easier.” Stepping around the Searcher, Henry walked to the ink puddle. He put his hands on his hips, and gave the ink an annoyed glare. _“Well?”_

The ink puddle rippled for a second, and then offered up a scooter.

“No.”

The scooter shifted into a bike.

“Sorry. Still no.”

The bike became a motorcycle.

“Tempting, but I was thinking of something larger.”

That was when the ink, finally taking the hint, offered up the most practical and horrific car Henry had ever seen.

“Would you look at that! The ink is actually useful for something.”

He started to inspect his new vehicle. It was very beautiful, and everything he could have wanted in life. It even had that new ink car smell, and the trunk was large enough that he could stuff the Ink Demon into it, if opportunity presented itself.

Henry was in _love._

“This is going to change everything! So,” Henry turned back to the Searcher. “Are you coming along for the ride, whatever you name is? I’m just going to assume Timmy for convenience.”

When the newly dubbed Timmy shook his head, Henry gave the ink creature a short wave of goodbye, and then he entered his new vehicle. It was just as beautiful inside. Henry didn’t have to do fancy things to be comfortable driving. The ink had given him a vehicle perfect for Henry’s needs.

“In honor of spite and sticking it to Joey, I dub thee The Fuck You Mobile. Now, I should go pick up Boris and get this show on the road.” Henry turned the key, and the engine started, purring like a kitten.

Whatever this adventure brought him, the endgame plan was to smack a bitch, and get the hell out of ink hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s not going to be much proper description of The Fuck You Mobile, because...well, the reasons why become clear later down the line.


	2. You Know Where You Can Put Your Opinions, Ink Demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the positive response to this! Kat and I are happy that our oddball humor appeals, and we hope that it continues to please.

Henry got well acquainted with his new car. There was cup holders for if he ever got cups. Henry liked that.

While he was thinking about the various liquids that could be in those cups, Henry remembered he’d forgotten to turn off the sink before he left the safehouse. The wave of inky water that followed Boris and smacked Henry when he opened the safehouse door only showed that no one had thought to turn it off. Since it was only Henry and Boris in the safehouse, this was forgivable.

Henry’s dog-son was on the ground, half-drowned. Boris didn’t look all that concerned about that, as he flipped himself over, and sat up. Only then did a dazed look cross his face.

“Get up, Boris. We’re going cruising.” Henry pointed to the car, much to Boris’s confusion.

Boris put his hand out to the side, as if to say _Henry what are you on? Our house just flooded._

“Exactly! With the house flooded, we got to live out of the car. Don’t question it.”

Boris tilted his head to the side, suddenly very sassy, and put his hands on his hips, and the message was clearly _I’m questioning it._

“Son, I’m proud that you’ve learned so much from me, as that stance is spot on mine, not including you sitting on your ass, _but_ you have to get into the car.”

It took the promise of food to get Boris into the car. Before, they loaded their things into the back seat, and Henry found some bacon soup for Boris to eat. Henry wouldn’t touch it. He was going to find anything but bacon soup for his next meal.

Now concentrated on his food, Boris didn’t seem all that interested in where the car came from. Henry gave him the rundown, but he wasn’t sure Boris was listening.

For a while, they drove in near silence, only the sound of Boris’s slurping, dripping of ink, and far off screams filling the car. The heater was on full blast, the seats were comfortable, and the car drove smoothly. There were no ink creatures. All was good.

Except for now, since the Ink Demon was charging towards them. That made it even better.

Henry smirked and sped up, intending to run the Ink Demon down before he really knew what was happening. The large inky abomination baulked, looking at the car dumbly for a moment, before making a spectacular jump just as Henry almost hit him.

The Ink Demon attached himself to the wall, and was now hissing. His ears were bent down, showing his fear and confusion.

Henry rolled down the window, and stuck his head out.

“What the fuck?” These were the first clear words Henry had heard from the Ink Demon the entire week. 

“Suck it, Ink Demon.”

It was rather satisfying when the Ink Demon screeched, jumped from the wall, and ran back the way he’d came. Henry was quick to speed after him. With the Ink Demon’s leg, they were almost caught up in no time.

“Boris! Take the wheel.” Henry commanded as he pulled out his axe. Can’t say from where, as he did not have an axe on hand until this point. Henry leaned out the window, intending to take out the Ink Demon when they passed him. With the axe. It’d be a dark day in heaven when he took out the Ink Demon the other way.

“But you never taught me how to drive!” Boris replied back, in response to Henry’s request.  
  
Henry pulled his head back into the car.

“You can talk?!” There really was no time to really question this at the moment, so Henry just shrugged his shoulders. “Ah...okay! Just hold the wheel still, and keep pressure on the pedal. I’ll teach you the specifics another day.” Henry went back out the window.

That, Boris could do.  It may have actually gone well, had they not noticed too late another hallway, which the Ink Demon turned off onto. Henry and Boris watched him retreat, for the brief seconds they could, while they kept zooming forward.

“Whoops.” Boris said, “Sorry Henry.”

“It’s fine Boris. I’ll try and back us up, but I think we lost him.” Henry pulled back into the car, and Boris switched back to his seat, as the car still moved forward. For the brief seconds both their eyes were off the hallway, there was a sickening thump.

Henry pressed sharply down on the break, and he and Boris were thrown against their seats.

“What did we just hit?” Henry asked, wincing from the small bit of pain he was in. Answering the question, a familiar mask slid down the front window, landing rather pathetically on the hood.

“I think it was Sammy.” Boris answered, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

“Should we make sure he’s alright?”

“We could.”

Without much more debate, they exited the car to check on the ink man.

Sammy was a puddle struggling to reform. A puddle that knew how to swear. It brought back so many memories of the man Sammy had been before.

“And another thing! Just because I’m a smashing hit, there’s no reason to literally hit and smash me, you assholes!”  At this point, Sammy was mostly reformed, and struggling to get his pants back on. That also reminded Henry of the man Sammy had been before.

“We’re really sorry, Sammy.” Boris said, holding out Sammy’s mask. The ink man snatched it, putting it back over his face as he grumbled about all sorts of things, until he suddenly froze, and looked up at Henry.

“Wait a minute. I remember you now. You’re Henry. My old drinking buddy, and former boss, _and_ what the hell is up with my body?!” Sammy inspected himself. “Last I checked I was only like, short. Not much taller than five feet. Speaking of feet, where are mine?” Sammy reached over, and prodded the ends of his pants. “I can’t feel my toes when I try to wiggle them. Are they missing or did they melt into my shoes?"  
  
“Henry, I think we knocked some sense into Sammy.” Boris whispered, bending down to speak in Henry’s ear.

“It really is amazing.”

Sammy most likely wouldn’t find it amazing, as he was starting to notice more and more things, all that he didn’t like, and was now having a panic attack, to the point of being curled up on the floor.

Since there was no way they could leave him, Henry and Boris picked Sammy up, and tossed him into the seat behind the passenger seat. As Henry and Boris climbed back in the car, Sammy giggled, maddened by his panicked state. 

“It’s so great to have friends again!”  
  
Time would tell whether that statement would remain true.


	3. We Gather Here Today In Remembrance of Sammy Lawrence

As it turns out, when they picked up Sammy, they should have tossed him as far as they could throw him. At least, that was Henry’s opinion. Sammy hadn’t shut up since he started talking.

Sammy was quite comfortable in The Fuck You Mobile. He was sitting cross legged, strumming a banjo that he'd most likely pulled from the same place Henry found his axe, and was chatting loud and half-nonsensically despite Henry being silent and annoyed, and Boris eating and not talking. It was like he'd never tried to kill Henry at the start of the week. 

“My brother Johnny died of a broken heart...well, actually he was violently murdered...but sometimes I still hear his voice...or more specific, his screams of agony...pipe organs, man. They're not supposed to scream, even though most of the music people play on them sounds like it.”

Henry was _sure_ that if he wasn’t cranky from hunger, he wouldn’t mind Sammy’s thankfully non-homicidal rambling, and he had raised a good point about pipe organs, but it was quite the pain in general. 

“You know, I’m not entirely sure whether Joey murdered Johnny or if I did. Or if it was someone else. The details are a little hazy. Tends to vary.” Sammy stretched himself out, humming in pleasure. “I shouldn’t be talking about this so casually. But I like talking and I’ve ran out of things to talk about. So anyways, Johnny-”

Henry just wanted silence and happiness for himself. Was that too much to ask for?

“Will you be quiet? Please?”

“No.”

Obviously, it was. Henry calmly stopped the car, and then turned around, and violently slapped Sammy with the axe. The stream of events only took about five seconds, and ended with Sammy retreating to the back seat screeching, and not speaking another word. He'd be pouting if he had a proper face.

“That’s better. Sorry, Sammy.” Henry turned back around, catching Boris’s displeased glance, but it was hard to take him seriously with the bacon soup can perched on the pop of his nose. “Boris, I swear it had to be done.”

"So you say."

Seconds away from killing the other two in the car, Sammy remembered what many people had suggested to him in the past, and instead glared at the front seat, pulling out his phone, which was covered in Bendy stickers, and typing a number quickly, chirping when the call was answered.

“Mom, you're younger than me, but I need an adult. Can you come pick me up? Henry is being mean to me.” Sammy paused, listening to the response, fidgeting, although he'd done much of that already. Clearly, he didn't get the response he wanted. “Well, screw you then! For that matter, I’m not going to be your prophet anymore with that kind of cowardice! Goodbye.” Sammy ended the call and tossed his phone onto the seat beside him.

Henry and Boris shared a long, meaningful look, before looking at Sammy. 

“The Ink Demon is your mother?” Henry asked, confused about the implications of this.

“Nope. Not anymore. I am my own mother now. Forevermore.” Sammy replied, proudly. He smashed his fist through the back window, and was about to throw his mask through the hole. “Wait. I need this to see. Goody!”

The window repaired itself, while Sammy put his mask back on and grabbed his phone off the seat, and started playing some sort of game. It seemed to have his attention.

“I’m just going to ignore you guys now.” Sammy said, after a few minutes of silence.

“Works for me!”

If only the peace of the drive had lasted. It had, until Sammy grew bored of whatever game he’d been playing on his phone, and began talking again.

“Hey guys. If we were all ducks, who would have the biggest bill?”

“Nope!” Henry immediately climbed around and over seats, to make a honest attempt to get his hands around Sammy’s neck. The motions of murder wasn't usually his go to option, but unless Sammy could produce food from nowhere they were both at a loss. Henry could really go for a chocolate cake. If he found the ingredients he'd force Sammy to make it at axe-point. That would be lovely.

Sammy, seeing Henry's attack coming, laughed nervously, and turned into a puddle, and slid onto the car floor, hiding under the seat.

“Henry, wait! I want to hear the end of this.” Boris said, climbing after Henry, and perching on the seat behind where Henry was poking the Sammy puddle with Sammy’s own mask. "Maybe it's a good joke!"

"Don't encourage him."

“It would be Grant, because of how much money Joey spent!” Sammy the puddle answered, giggling. 

“That’s a nice joke Sammy!” Boris complimented, putting his hands together and smiling.

“Thank you!” Sammy said, reforming into his pants, and once he had that handled, he adjusted his suspenders. “I know lots of good jokes.”

“Tell another!”

“No.” Henry said, but Sammy persisted. Sammy looked around, and after making a nonsensical sound, he gestured around them.

“Here’s a very good one! It's also a good question. If we’re all in the back, who’s driving?”

Henry, Boris, and Sammy all looked to the driver’s seat, and they all made various sounds of shock.

The axe. It was the axe driving.

 


	4. Alice Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

The much wanted silence swarmed the car, as the three men had no idea what to do with this shit. Well, Henry would quickly disagree that it was shit. A light blush crossed his face, and he grinned.

“What a nice axe. I think we’ll keep that one.”

Neither of the other two was sure what was going on. Until they noticed Henry's blush, and then they knew right away. 

Henry climbed away from Sammy and Boris, and settled into the passenger seat. He then addressed the axe. “Hello. I’m Henry. I didn’t realize you were alive. Can we be friends?”

Considering the axe didn’t drive everyone into an wall or down any random holes in the floor, everyone assumed that the axe was now Henry’s friend. This made Henry grin even widder.

“There are actual hearts floating around his head.” Sammy said, his tone somewhere between interest and lack of, if that makes any sense. It certainly doesn't.

“I can’t judge.” Boris grabbed a bag of his personal items, and pulled out a bone. “This is my one true love. Yes, we have a great time, don’t we Mister Bone!” Boris gushed, “I must get around to renaming you!”

Sammy was suspiciously silent, while Henry was trying to chat up the axe and Boris was serenading the bone. Maybe he was sad he was the only one who wasn’t in love with an inanimate object. As inanimate as axe made from dark magic and a human femur can be. It's actually rather concerning to think about.

Sometimes you just gotta accept these things.

Sammy pulled his phone back out, wondering if there was anything on it to pass the time. The internet service in the studio was terrible, so there was no way he was getting online. He'd gotten bored of all his apps, and life just sucked in general. None of his pictures were all that eyecatching. It was mostly just outdated memes, and pictures of interesting Searchers that he'd seen. Most of them looked the same.

It would be Sammy's mission to find good internet, no matter what the other two had planned for their lives.  
  
The axe drove the car down a new hallway, and that was when they passed a disgruntled ‘Alice’ doing her own dirty work. The vehicle slowed, the windows rolled down, and the whole group stared ‘Alice’ down as they passed. Henry and Boris stuck up their middle fingers, as the car sped up once more.

“Go fuck yourself!” Henry and Boris kindly suggested, yelling back at her.

“I think you’re very pretty!” Sammy instead yelled at ‘Alice’, waving. “Call me sometime!” 

“Not a chance!” 'Alice' yelled back, throwing the Tommy Gun at Sammy, which knocked him back.

Boris picked up the gun.  
  
“Look! A gun! We could kill the Ink Demon with it!” The axe, jealous, immediately stopped the car, and chopped the gun in half. “Uh, it was a gun.” 

While he had no face, it was clear in Sammy's tone that he’d be wearing a devious grin if he could.  
  
“Well, I guess its gun now." 

Henry choked, looking at Sammy with wide eyes.

“Sammy, I will throw you from this car myself!”

The ink man laughed, for he was a fool.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Seconds later, the car was speeding fast down the hallway, Sammy James Lawrence hot on its bumper. It seemed Sammy’s unfathomable running skills still remained even though he was even more disproportional than he had been as a human, and was made of sticky ink. Everyone should be proud of him.

“I regret everything.” Henry complained, just as his stomach growled. “Soon...soon we’ll find an exit the Ink Demon hasn’t destroyed or blocked off and then I’m hitting a buffet.”

“Oh, I’d like that!” Boris said, cheerfully. Behind him, Sammy jumped and slammed into the back window. “I hadn’t had food that isn’t bacon soup in a while.”

Sammy climbed back into the car, and sat back down beside Boris.

“If I want to make a joke or a pun, I’m going to make a joke or a pun. No stopping me. No throwing me from the car.”

Henry decided to just ignore him, hoping that would somehow work, and strived to just enjoy the drive.

Unfortunately, the hallway filled with spidery ink. They all took a cautious glance back at the Bendy cutout that had just been run over, and the several down the hall that had also been ran over. They knew what was coming. It seemed while the car terrified the Ink Demon, his anxiety override was the cutouts. The cutouts were his life. 

The Ink Demon limped up behind them, coming up beside the car, frowning like the bitch he was. Henry switched to the driver’s seat and rolled down the window. Before the Ink Demon could kill any of them through physical means or shear spite, Henry started speaking in a falsetto voice.

“Officer! I swear I have my licence! I just left it in my purse is all. It’s in the trunk.”

Henry exited the car, and for whatever reason, the Ink Demon followed him without any sort of conflict. Why the Ink Demon was shocked when Henry opened the trunk and stuffed him into it is a mystery. It might even go down in history as one of the greatest unsolved mysteries. Henry laughed wholeheartedly as he walked back over to the driver’s door, leaving behind unholy screeching and banging from the trunk.

“That was easier than I thought.” Henry said cheerfully, pulling the axe into a side hug. 

“And this is now the story of how I lost what little respect I had left for the Ink Demon.” Sammy admitted. Sammy had been filming the entire time. Once he had internet, he'd be posting that shit. _Terrifying_   _Ink Demon falls for short man's lies,_ he'd call it.

From the trunk, the Ink Demon let out a forlorn cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now ~~Joey~~ The Ink Demon has joined the crew. Well, sort of. 
> 
> Also, Gameda called Henry wanting to marry the axe. Henry/Axe is in fact a comparably big pairing in this story. While it may seem like a continued gag from Joey Drew Studios Notice Board, this story was actually started back in December, before Notice Board was even thought of. The use of the Henry/Axe pairing in that story was a reference to this story. I just hadn’t started posting this one until recently. The more you know, huh? Although Henry's had gags with axes in my crack fics since Inky Wedding Bells so that also helps.  
> Even though Notice Board is a separate concept from this, I was using a couple things from this story the entire time there, so if anything seems similar to Notice Board, that’s why.


End file.
